Five Years Gone
by IsisIzabel
Summary: Previously known as "Deep Water"; Takes place directly after the first movie in the franchise, spoilers thru 2 Fast 2 Furious. Letty is released from prison after five years and finds how things have changed ... and they haven't changed.
1. Prologue

**Five Years Gone**

_Prologue_

There was blood. So much, _too _much, blood. It seeped through her fingers, staining them crimson. Frantic, she searched the dark eyes that peered up at her for a sign of life.

It was fading fast.

"Letty, stay with me," Mia hissed, her tone bordering on a plea as she pressed her hand harder to the deep cut in Letty's side.

A breath shuddered through Letty, her body weak and damaged from the accident. She blinked once, the action seeming the take the last reserves of her energy. She coughed, pain ricocheting through her chest and she tasted blood again. She wondered if the copper taste in her mouth would ever rinse out.

In the seat in front, Dom twisted to look back at her. He was uncharacteristically pale, and that shook her even more. "Baby…" He started to reach for her, but seemed to think better of it and stopped. His dark eyes flicked to Mia and he swallowed when she shook her head in reply.

Mia turned and looked back at Letty, her heart slamming painfully against her ribs when she watched Letty's eyes drift shit. "Letty? _Letty!_" She clamped her fingers tighter around the cut, not wanting to shake her friend. But really, what more damage could be done to Letty's body?

Mia gasped and looked up at her brother. "She's unconscious. Dom, we have to get her to a hospital."

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he nodded once, tersely. He turned back around. "Leon, get to the nearest hospital."

It was an unnecessary order; Leon had been heading that direction the entire time. He had seen enough bad accidents to know Letty wouldn't make it over the border before seeing a doctor, no matter how optimistic Dom's plans were.

Leon's hand flexed around the wheel, his entire frame taut with stress. He saw the blue sign on the shoulder of the highway, indicating the hospital was two miles away. The following two minutes were the slowest of his life, knowing full well that Letty's life was literally hanging in the balance.

With a quick jerk of the steering wheel, he swung the car into the designated emergency entrance and pulled the car to a neat stop inches from the curb. Dom had the door open before they stopped.

He flipped the front seat forward and, with Mia's help, pulled Letty from the car, cradling her in his arms. Jesus, had she always felt this small? He turned and started for the entrance, hearing Mia and Leon quick on his heels.

The electronic doors _whooshed_ open, cool air welcoming them in from the heat of the midday sun. His nose wrinkled at the antiseptic smell and he made his way for the triage nurse's desk, shouldering two people out of the way with his sheer size.

"We need a doctor," he demanded to the petite redhead sitting at the desk. He watched her green eyes widen as she scrambled to her feet, already pulling the stethoscope from her neck as she went.

"Dr. Saint!" she yelled over one shoulder, rounding the desk. She maneuvered around Dom, pressing the bell shaped end to Letty's chest. "Dr. _Saint_!"

An older man—Dr. Saint, Dom assumed—came around the corner fast, nearly taking out an orderly. His eyes swept the situation critically before he came to a stop before them. With a touch to the nurse's shoulder, he moved her out of the way. "Get a gurney," he instructed.

Standing at least five inches beneath Dom, he peered up with gray eyes through horn-rimmed glasses. "What happened?"

"Car accident," Dom replied stiffly, watching as the white bed was wheeled to them. He hesitated, not ready to let her go quite yet. He slowly, gently, placed her on top of the gurney and stepped back.

"What's her name?"

"Letty—Leticia Ortiz," Leon supplied. He ran a hand over his jaw, nervous and worried.

Dr. Saint nodded and turned to his patient. "Letty? Can you hear me?"

No response.

Two more nurses seemed to materialize, and he watched, helpless, as they swarmed Letty's bed. A blood pressure cuff was clamped around one arm as another pried her eyes open and shone a penlight in them.

Dr. Saint turned back to the waiting threesome. "Are you family?"

"Yes," Mia answered firmly, barely blinking at the question. "Is she—"

"Any allergies? Medical conditions I need to know about?"

"None," Dom answered quickly, his eyes watching as they started taking her away.

"Is she on anything?"

Dom nearly growled, his expression suddenly lethal. "No," he retorted. "Is she going to make it?"

Mia stepped forward, curling a hand across Dom's bicep. She felt Leon's presence beside her as they closed rank around her brother, waiting.

Dr. Saint's face was the picture of calm. He sighed quietly. "I'm afraid it's too early to tell," he replied placidly. He gestured to the room behind them. "Have a seat in the waiting room. Someone will be out to get you." He turned on his heel and headed for the trauma room.

Dom watched until the doctor was out of sight.

"Vince might be here, too," Leon mused quietly. "I could ask—"

Dom turned so suddenly it had Mia and Leon both jumping back two steps.

"We need to leave." Dom's face was set, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. "Cops'll be here soon. We need to get back to the house, find Jesse, and get the hell out of town."

"But Letty—" Mia started, scrambling to follow him as he exited the hospital.

"I'll come back for Letty, but I can't do shit if we're all locked up," Dom snapped, going to the car. He held out a hand to Leon. "Keys."

Leon tossed them to Dom without comment, getting into the back seat as Mia got in the passenger side. She closed the door and faced him. "Someone needs to be here for her!"

Dom slammed the heel of his hand against the top of the steering wheel. "Dammit, Mia, you think I don't know that?" He turned and glared at her, his eyes flashing like polished onyx.

He started the car and shifted it into gear, popping the clutch as he peeled out of the parking lot. He took a hard right at the corner, heading back for his house.

"I'll come back for her," he said again, more to himself than Mia or Leon.


	2. Chapter 1

**Five Years Gone**

_Chapter 1_

"Oh, good," a deep male voice greeted, "you're awake."

Letty blinked back into consciousness, wincing at the harsh lights above her. She blinked several times and looked around, landing on the balding man with dark eyes standing beside her bed.

"Where the hell am I?" she asked, her mouth dry and swollen and her voice rough.

"Hospital," he answered, moving to pour some water into a plastic pink cup from the matching pitcher beside her bed. He handed it to her.

Letty reached for the cups with both hands, stopping abruptly when she realized her left hand was being restrained. She looked down, nearly swallowing her tongue when she saw the silver of the handcuffs glinting up at her. Mocking her.

_Shit_.

"What—"

"The police said they were necessary," the man answered with a shrug by way of explanation. He almost seemed apologetic. He pressed the cup into her free hand. "Easy," he admonished as she drained the cup in one gulp.

"I'm Dr. Hastings," he went on, taking the now empty cup from her and setting it on the table beside the bed. "Do you remember anything?"

Letty thought back, her mind racing. The truck. Vince. The accident. _Dom_. The memories were fragments, unable to blend cohesively into a full thought.

"Not much," she answered back after a moment. She reached up to rub her aching head, her fingers touching her hair. She cringed at the stiff, greasy feel. She needed a shower.

"My friends—"

"Are gone," Dr. Hastings reported, his tone clipped. "It's even been on the news."

She couldn't deny the relief that flooded her. They got away.

_Dom_ got away.

"You, however, are another story," the doctor continued, pulling up a rolling stool to her bedside. "You have three fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, more cuts and bruises than I can count, and that headache you feel is the remains of a nasty concussion. All in all, Miss Ortiz, I'd say you were extremely lucky."

Letty looked down at the handcuffs again. _Lucky_ wasn't the first word that popped into mind.

"Another day or two of observation, and I'll clear you for medical release." He sounded vaguely apologetic.

"I can go home?"

A shadow crossed the doctor's face. "That's not my call, Miss Ortiz."

She let her eyes drift shut, trying to stop the nauseating reality that she probably wouldn't be going home for a good while.

"Despite all your injuries, I think you'll carry to term," Dr. Hastings added as an afterthought, trying to sound encouraging.

Her eyes opened slowly, narrowed with suspicion. "Carry what to term?"

Dr. Hastings flushed and pursed his lips. "I assumed you knew … Miss Ortiz, you're pregnant."

Letty took a deep breath and managed to push herself up into a sitting position. "I can't be … pregnant."

Dr. Hastings blinked only once. "Are you sexually active?"

Her eyes narrowed into thin slits, and she ground her teeth together. "We use protection."

"Well, nothing's full-proof, Miss Ortiz," he admonished gently. "I estimate you're about fourteen weeks."

_Fourteen weeks?_ The number slammed around in her head for a minute. For over three months she had been carrying a baby inside of her?

"I … _can't_ be pregnant," she started quietly, shaking her head.

Disapproval flashed briefly across the doctor's face before it smoothed out into practiced apathy. "Well it _is_ still early. There are other courses of action available should you decide the need to … terminate the pregnancy."

Letty swallowed hard. _Terminate_ sounded so harsh. "I …" She sighed and leaned back against the pillow, letting her eyes close. "Yeah. I need to do that."

She hated herself instantly, but couldn't see the alternative.

Dr. Hastings nodded slowly, making a note on the medical chart her held. "OK. I'll be sure to let the prison doctor know your choice."

"_Prison_ doctor?" she repeated, stunned.

"Miss Ortiz, there have been police officers stationed outside your door since you were admitted. I'm keeping you here one more day for observation, and then you'll be released into their custody," Dr. Hastings said, his tone somber and resigned.

She jerked her handcuffed arm once, snapping the metal of the cuff against the metal of the rail. "That why I'm cuffed?"

He nodded tersely. "Yes." He stood up. "Do you need anything?"

She thought for a second. "Bathroom."

He smiled. "You've been unconscious for two days. We had to catheterize you. Now that you're awake, I can have a nurse remove it for you."

She made a face, suddenly aware of the tug between her legs where the catheter was taped down. She swallowed and nodded, her face grim. "Thanks."

"If you need anything," he opened the door, "ring for the on duty nurse."

The door was starting to swing shut when two uniformed officers strode in. The taller of the two, his nametag identifying him as _A. Gorshaw_, removed a notepad from his front pocket. "Leticia Ortiz?"

She nodded slowly, working at keeping her expression neutral.

"I must first advise you that you're under arrest for robbery, attempted robbery, conspiracy to commit robbery, and reckless endangerment. You have the right to remain silent, if you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford and attorney, one will provided for you. Do you understand these rights?"

She nodded again, her jaw locked. She looked out the window to her left.

"I need a verbal answer," Gorshaw ordered firmly.

She turned and looked back at him. "Yeah, I understand," she forced out.

"Have you heard from Dominic Toretto in the last three days?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "I've been unconscious," she reminded him, her tone frigid.

"Do you know where he is?"

"No idea," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"What about Mia Toretto? Or Leon—"

"Unconscious, remember?" she snapped, annoyed and angry now. "I haven't heard from anyone. I haven't _seen_ anyone." Her eyes flashed with warning, and she could feel the beginning of a headache pounding against her temples.

Gorshaw smirked and flipped his notepad closed. He glanced down at his shorter, but more muscled, partner. His name badge indicated he was _P. Gomez_.

_Gorshaw and Gomez_. It sounded like the name of a bad sitcom.

"Miss Ortiz," Gomez started, his voice softer, kinder, "is there anything you can tell us that might help?"

She blinked once, slowly. "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

Gorshaw snorted loudly, but it was Gomez that answered her: "The D.A. might take it into consideration during sentencing. Might even offer you a plea bargain."

She let her eyes drift shut. "I don't know anything. And even if I did? I wouldn't tell you."

"Why am I not surprised?" Gorshaw muttered.

Gomez frowned and started for the door, glaring over his shoulder until his partner reluctantly followed suit.

Letty sighed and opened her eyes, following the line of her arm down to where the handcuff rested, mocking her silently. Shaking her head, she pressed a hand to her still flat abdomen, but felt the firmness beneath her fingers.

_I'm pregnant,_ she thought again, the words bouncing around in her head.


	3. Chapter 2

**Deep Water**

_Chapter 2_

"How does the defendant plead?" Judge Kramer asked loudly. His booming voice echoed around the nearly empty courtroom. He leaned forward, staring hard at Letty with small blue eyes that had clouded with age. The frown on his face pulled his overgrown, white eyebrows into a single line.

"Not guilty," Letty answered in response, her voice mechanical. She shifted under the collar of her orange jumpsuit. The county issued prison garb seemed to be made of 100% polyester and itched like hell.

"The state requests remand, Your Honor," the assistant district attorney, Allison Wheeler, announced, her voice clear as glass. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, and she looked like she belonged at a sorority slumber party—not battling it out in a courtroom with criminals.

The appointed public defender, Michael Harrison, pushed his wide glasses up higher on his beak of a nose and squinted while rifling through a stack of papers. "We request my client be released on her own recognizance."

The judge glanced back at the A.D.A., waiting for her rebuttal. It wasn't long.

"Miss Ortiz has very limited ties to the community, her accomplices are all at large and evidence suggests they have left the country. It's safe to assume Miss Ortiz would pose a flight risk."

Harrison flushed, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. "Miss Ortiz is also pregnant. Keeping her in prison could prove detrimental to the pregnancy."

Allison gave Harrison and Letty a petulant smile. "It is also known that Miss Ortiz has an appointment to terminate her pregnancy tomorrow morning."

Letty gritted her teeth and hung her head, feeling the condemnation that came with that statement.

Harrison blanched. "Your Honor, my client's right to terminate a pregnancy is not on trial."

"No, it's not," Judge Kramer agreed, albeit reluctantly. "However, I cannot overlook the severity of these crimes, or that Miss Ortiz does pose a potential flight risk."

He took in a deep breath and leaned back in his wingback chair, appraising Letty with a critical eye. "Bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars."

Letty's head dropped forward, her chin hitting her chest as she expelled a long breath. It might as well have been twenty million—no way could she raise that much money. She forced her head back up as the bailiff came around to take her back into custody. She squared her shoulders, locking them into place as her hands were cuffed behind her back.

***

She hated doctors.

All her life, Letty had avoided doctors like the plague. She didn't like the antiseptic odor of the rooms, the bland colors, or the cold instruments they used. In the last week, she had spent more time in hospitals and with doctors than she had in the last ten years combined. The added bonus of two armed guards awaiting her outside in the hallway didn't help matters any.

She sucked in a sharp breath when the jelly was slathered onto her stomach. The ultrasound technician, who had introduced herself as Megan, winced and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," she murmured.

Letty shrugged, over the surprising sensation. She looked away, staring at a poster on the wall of a couple holding hands on the beach at sunset. The announcement below promoted HIV testing.

She sighed, unable to stop looking at the couple.

"_I had a dream about us. On the beach in Mexico."_

His voice, that last promise he made, came back in full force. Letty blinked back the sudden sting of tears that pricked the backs of her eyes. She cleared her throat and looked down at the ultrasound tech frowning at the monitor.

"Everything OK?" Letty asked, her voice rough and throaty from not being used. Who did she have to talk to?

The technician blinked and looked up, smiling. "Yep." She turned back to the monitor. "It should be on the screen in just a second."

"The baby?" Letty clarified, feeling stupid. What else would it be?

Megan nodded.

"Why … why do I need to have an ultrasound? I mean, I thought I just came in and …"

"Helps us determine how far along you definitely are," Megan answered with an easy smile. "We need to know for the procedure."

"Oh." Letty waited. She moved to scratch an itch on her leg, but the movement was abruptly halted by the handcuff that had been snapped to the bed frame. She grimaced and bit back a curse.

"Here we go," Megan murmured lightly. A second later a steady thrumming sound filled the room.

Letty's eyes went wide. "What's …"

Megan glanced up, her expression kind. "The heartbeat."

"The baby's?" Letty pressed, her eyes looking at the monitor. She squinted, trying to make out anything.

The tech nodded quickly. "Yep. Nice and strong."

"Is it supposed to be so fast?"

Megan nodded. "Perfectly normal. Fetal heart rate is much higher than an adult's."

Letty couldn't find any words. There were none.

She made a few notes on her clipboard. "I'd say that the doctor at the hospital was correct: You're about fourteen weeks."

Letty licked her lips, her mouth dry. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Too early to tell," Megan answered quietly. She moved her hand to turn off the monitor.

"Wait," Letty said quickly, stopping her. She sat up a bit. "Where … where is it?"

Megan pointed, outlining the small peanut shape in the illuminated space. "That's it right there."

"It's healthy?" Letty breathed, unable to tear her eyes away. Blood pounded in her ears, but it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of the baby's heart beat.

Herbaby. _Dom's _baby.

"As far as I can see, yes," Megan said slowly, leaning back. She glanced over her shoulder as the door opened and the doctor entered the room.

The doctor, a woman with salt and pepper hair pulled into a severe bun, walked in, her heels clicking on the floor. "Hi, Letty. I'm Doctor Barnes. I'll be doing your—"

"No," Letty cut in sharply, her eyes cutting to the doctor's face.

Dr. Barnes didn't look surprised. She exchanged a quick look with Megan. Megan turned off the machine, plunging the room into silence. She stood up and walked around Dr. Barnes, closing the door as she left.

Letty shifted on the bed, already missing the sound of the heartbeat that filled the air.

"Letty," Dr. Barnes began slowly, taking the vacated seat.

Letty studied her nails. They were bitten down, torn in places. The remnants of her red polish were barely visible now. "I can't do it."

Dr. Barnes nodded, not seeming the least bit surprised by the turn of events. "Are you sure?"

Letty leaned back and let her eyes drift shut. For the first time in her life, she had never been more certain about anything. "I'm sure."


End file.
